


Living the Dream

by silentdescant



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anniversary, Canon Compliant, Drunkenness, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t think I can move. Why did we think beer pong was a good idea?”</p><p>“Who the hell knows.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living the Dream

**Author's Note:**

> So, Jensen just bought a house in Austin, and based on the pictures Jared and Clif tweeted today, it looks like that's where Jared and Jensen were hanging out. I couldn't resist the opportunity to write about today's events. Oh, and happy birthday, Supernatural! :)

Jensen kicks his feet up onto the railing of the balcony. It’s almost an uncomfortably high angle, but he’s slouched down so far in his chair that he can deal with it. Jared, in the chair beside him, just sprawls his limbs every which way, with his arms dangling down over the armrests and his long legs stretched out in an obvious attempt to trip people.

Jensen is drunk. He doesn’t actually get drunk very often—he can hold his liquor pretty well, and he’s too old for getting drunk just for the sake of it—and it feels pretty good. It’s partly the contentment of being in the new house, partly having his family close, and partly Jared’s good company. The sun is setting behind them, turning all the houses on the opposite side of the river gold, and Jensen is pleasantly warm and unfocused, and it’s been an excellent day.

“This is an awesome house,” Jared tells him, and he’s had even more to drink than Jensen, so he’s slurring a little. “I’m glad you moved here.”

Jensen’s glad too. He loves Los Angeles, and he’s called it home for the majority of his life, now, but it never felt like home like Texas has. And Austin’s different from Dallas, sure, but it still feels like home, more so than Malibu or Burbank, and definitely more than Vancouver.

“You talked me into it,” Jensen replies, even though that’s not true. Jared played a part in convincing Jensen to move, but Jared’s oddly respectful about things like this. He’ll lay out all the pros and cons, do all the research for you, but he won’t ever try to influence your decision with his own bias. Jensen thinks Jared just likes facts rather than opinions.

Jensen, on the other hand, needs opinions. He watches movies or television shows based on recommendations from people he trusts, and he picks out clothes with Danneel’s guidance, and he knows how to read between Jared’s lines and it let him hear Jared’s opinions about living in Austin, and that steered him in the direction of this house. Anyway, Jared has good taste. In most things, anyway. He does research, and he finds the best of the best, and Jensen’s too lazy for all that, so he just follows Jared’s lead.

“You ready for a long, cold winter?” Jared asks.

Right now, Jensen can’t imagine winter. It’s so warm out, even as dusk settles around them, warm enough for them to push each other off the dock and race around on jet skis. His shorts are still a little damp, and his shoulders tingle with sunburn. It still feel like summer, like they’re on vacation. But it won’t last.

“Winter is coming,” Jensen intones, and Jared cracks the fuck up. It’s a testament to how drunk he is. Jensen looks over and sees him all curled up, hunched over and clutching his stomach, wracked with giggles. It makes Jensen laugh too, to see Jared like that. “Shit, man, it wasn’t that funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jared agrees, but his voice is still weak and high pitched as he tries to contain himself.

“Dude, can you even get home?” Jensen asks, but the point is moot. Jared clearly can’t drive in his current state, but as far as Jensen can recall, Clif and Gen stopped drinking hours ago, and even if they hadn’t, Jared only lives down a couple of streets. It’s more than close enough for him to walk, even drunk. That’s fantastic. Jensen’s so glad he bought this house.

“You got like a million extra bedrooms,” Jared says. “I’ll just crash here.”

“I think your kids’ll want their own beds,” Jensen replies. Besides, his extra bedrooms aren’t fully furnished yet. “Fuck, it’s way past their bedtime.”

“It’s way past _my_ bedtime,” Jared says. “I don’t think I can move. Why did we think beer pong was a good idea?”

“Who the hell knows.”

“I totally won, though.”

Jensen snorts. “Whatever, dude, at least I won the jet ski race.”

“I don’t know… It was a photo finish. You should install a motion activated camera, so we could race for real.”

That’s such a terrible idea for so many reasons, but for a moment, Jensen entertains the thought. “Then I’d just have proof that I beat your slow ass. That was not a photo finish, by the way. I distinctly remember you being somewhere behind me.”

Jared flaps his hand at Jensen and blows a raspberry, spit flying everywhere. “Whatever. I don’t want to leave.”

“You live like two minutes from here.”

“Yeah, but still.”

They both tilt their heads back and look up at the sky. As the sun sinks lower, stars begin to twinkle in the gloaming. Gloaming, that’s a word Jared would appreciate. Jensen’s not sure where he learned it—he’s not really a big reader—but he likes it. It sounds incongruously guttural and dark.

“You know what gloaming means?” he asks.

Jared stretches his arms out above his head. “Twilight,” he answers around a yawn.

“Fuckin’ show off. This is why I don’t play scrabble with you.”

Jared shrugs with his arms still raised. “You asked.”

Jensen’s getting too tired for this to continue, and by the looks of it, Jared’s right on his heels. He’s rubbing his eyes now, and his hair is a mess, still damp with sweat or water by drying at weird angles from being scrunched up against the chair back. Jensen rubs his eyes too and asks, “You wanna stay here?”

“I should get home,” Jared replies, but he doesn’t move.

They sit in silence for a while until the sun fully sets and the sky turns a dark, purplish blue. The stars shine brighter, and this is something Jensen loves about being away from Los Angeles. Maybe he should buy a telescope. Jared would probably enjoy that too.

He feels more than sees Jared shift around, turning towards him, so Jensen mirrors him. A light from inside the house illuminates half of Jared’s face. There’s about two feet of space between their chairs, and Jared’s staring at him so intently that Jensen feels a little off-kilter.

“So,” Jared says.

“So?”

“It’s a pretty awesome anniversary, huh?”

Jensen’s brow crinkles in confusion. It’s not his and Danneel’s anniversary, and it’s not Jared and Gen’s. It’s not even Jensen and Jared’s, because they met for the first time much earlier in the summer. Then Jensen realizes: the show. It premiered today, all those years ago. He remembers Jared talking about it earlier, before all the alcohol.

“Pretty awesome indeed,” Jensen agrees.

“We’re all grown up now. Married and kids and everything. Houses in Texas. Settling down.”

Jensen grins. “You call this being grown up? I live in the same neighborhood as my best friend, and we just spent all day playing beer pong and horsing around in the river. This can’t be adulthood.”

“Well, it’s like everything I always dreamed of.”

Jensen runs through his mental list. Beautiful wife, perfect kid—or kids, in Jared’s case—amazing house on the waterfront, a job he loves. He nods at Jared. “Guess we are living the dream.”

He turns away from Jared, tilting his face up to look at the night sky again, and he hears Jared doing the same. They’re both quiet for a while, and then Jared says, “Here’s hoping we never wake up.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
